The Daughter Of The Year - Ellis Parker Butler

poem: The Daughter Of The Year by Ellis Parker Butler

Nature, when she made thee, dear,
Begged the treasures of the year.
For thy cheeks, all pink and white,
Spring gave apple blossoms light;
Summer, for thy matchless eyes,
Gave the azure of her skies;
Autumn spun her gold and red
In a mass of silken thread—
Gold and red and sunlight rare
For the wonder of thy hair!
Surly Winter would impart
But his coldness, for thy heart.

Dearest, let the love I bring
Turn thy Winter into Spring.
What are Summer, Spring and Fall,
If thy Winter chills them all?
poem by Ellis Parker Butler

The Final Tax - Ellis Parker Butler

poem: The Final Tax by Ellis Parker Butler

Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
“What can we tax that is not paying?
We’re taxing every blessed thing—
Here’s what our people are defraying:

“Tariff tax, income tax,
Tax on retail sales,
Club tax, school tax,
Tax on beers and ales,

“City tax, county tax,
Tax on obligations,
War tax. wine tax,
Tax on corporations,

“Brewer tax, sewer tax,
Tax on motor cars,
Bond tax, stock tax,
Tax on liquor bars,

“Bridge tax, check tax,
Tax on drugs and pills,
Gas tax, ticket tax,
Tax on gifts in wills,

“Poll tax, dog tax,
Tax on money loaned,
State tax, road tax,
Tax on all things owned,

“Stamp tax, land tax,
Tax on wedding ring,
High tax, low tax,
Tax on everything!”

Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
“That is the list, a pretty bevy;
No thing or act that is untaxed;
There’s nothing more on which to levy.”

Said Statesman Z to Statesman A:
“The deficit each moment waxes;
This is no time for us to fail—
We will decree a tax on taxes.”
poem by Ellis Parker Butler

The Golf Walk - Ellis Parker Butler

poem: The Golf Walk by Ellis Parker Butler

Behold, my child, this touching scene,
The golfer on the golfing-green;
Pray mark his legs’ uncanny swing,
The golf-walk is a gruesome thing!

See how his arms and shoulders ride
Above his legs in haughty pride,
While over bunker, hill and lawn
His feet, relentless, drag him on.

And does the man walk always so?
Nay! nay I my child, and eke, oh! no!
It is a gait he only knows
When he has on his golfing clothes.

Blame not the man for that strange stride
He could not help it if he tried;
It is his timid feet that try
From his obstreperous clothes to fly.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler

The Hunter by Ellis Parker Butler

poem: The Hunter by Ellis Parker Butler

A full-fledged gun cannot endure
The trifling of an amateur;
Poor marksmanship its temper spoils
And this is why the gun recoils.

A self-respecting gun I’m sure
Delights to jar the amateur
And thinks that it is no disgrace
To kick his shoulder out of place.

Moral

When you go out to hunt, my son
Prepare to circumvent your gun
And on your shoulder firmly bind
A pillow of the largest kind.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler

The Poor Boy’s Christmas - Ellis Parker Butler

poem: The Poor Boy’s Christmas by Ellis Parker Butler

Observe, my child, this pretty scene,
And note the air of pleasure keen
With which the widow’s orphan boy
Toots his tin horn, his only toy.
What need of costly gifts has he?
The widow has nowhere to flee.
And ample noise his horn emits
To drive the widow into fits.

MORAL:

The philosophic mind can see
The uses of adversity.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler